


The Sun and The Breeze

by R2SO



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Angst, Cherik - Freeform, M/M, dunno, soul crushing, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:33:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R2SO/pseuds/R2SO
Summary: In which Erik and Charles find themselves on opposites sides of a constant rift between them. Except for the fact that this time, the rift is far too large to just let it be. Sorry not sorry





	

The gentle breeze was blowing, the trees swaying to their soft fingers, dragging through the leaves and pulling them off. They dance with the wind, twirling around and spinning in big sweeping circles before falling to the floor to rest. The sun shone from above, the light illuminating, its rays warming. A contrast to the breeze. The rays were firm and steady, beating down in a straight rigid line where the breeze spun and swirled. Hot and cold. Living in perfect harmony. Without one, the other is too much to bare. An imbalance is formed. One is needed to accompany the other, to be with the other. And sometimes to stop the other. Sometimes the sun can become too hot, too fierce. And sometimes the breeze can become too cold, far too out of control. 

 

The mansion stood tall in front of the trees, the breeze being no match for the solid foundations which they were built. The sun made no rival to the sturdy material. An image of strength against nature. Though, it's rare that nature is the cause for destruction. While the grounds of the large mansion were lush and beautiful, filled with life and peace, the rest of the world was not so peaceful. 

 

He stood tall near the trees, the breeze blowing his hair and the sun beating down on top of him, staring up at the mansion. It had been untouched through the war. Mutants against humans. One thing he’d learnt was that war solved nothing. All it brought was chaos. He found it rather sad that… someone in particular couldn't see this. That he couldn’t see the damage he was causing, rage and pain clouding his vision. There was nothing he could about it now though, he didn't see the slow decline of the other. He didn’t notice the signs. He couldn't save the other, he knew this much, he was too far gone. The problem was, he didn't think he could bring himself to end the man he once called his love. It would break his heart… But this was the only way. He had to kill the leader of the mutant rebellion, even if it meant that the humans would wipe out all mutants after that… it would be better than the future the mutant leader had planned for the world. 

 

He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he stood there for his last moments on the planet. Yes, he was going to kill the other, but after that, he’d do the same to himself. Because how could he bare to live in a world without the love of his life? He told himself that he was not going to commit murder. He was going to save the man. 

 

It’s what he had to tell himself… Or else he’d never do it. 

 

He took in a deep breath, opening his eyes as he exhaled. His eyes were calm, his hands were steady, his stance was firm. The calm before the storm. 

 

It reminded him of his lover. Firm and strong and bold… Calm, before the storm rose from him. He stood there for only moments before heading into the mansion, walking through the parlour, the halls, up the stairs and to his room. The whole place was deserted, abandoned. He took one last look over his things, a smile spreading on his lips at the sight of a fond memory. A picture lay on the bedside table, two young men sitting before the fire, playing chess and grinning like fools. Though, there was only one fool in that picture, and it was him. For not seeing, for not opening his eyes. The smile turned bittersweet at that and he left the room, without so much as a glance at anything else. His walk back out of the mansion was quick, he had no need to be there anymore, it was only a physical reminder of the sadness of the past. But it wasn't all sad… it was only this way because of the ending. Endings are never entirely happy. 

 

His trip away from the mansion lead him to the war zones of the world. Active battlefields of the mutants and humans. As he approached, hanging just off to the sides of the main battle, he could feel the fear, he could feel the devastation. He closed his eyes as he walked onto the battlefield, all bullets missing him, and he did not open his eyes until he stood in the middle of it, all eyes on the man with no armour, no weapons, walking through one of the deadliest places on the planet. 

 

His eyes did not meet any human’s. They did not meet any mutants eyes except one. He didn't even have to scan the crowd to find his old friend, his old beloved, because those eyes were already on him. He was in front of the mutant army, leading them with armour covering his skin. The eyes that looked at him, they were not the same, they had not been the same since Cuba. 

 

“I’m sorry, old friend… But you must understand I need to do this…” He said, quietly, though he knew the other would hear. The whole battlefield was frozen, and he was certain it was not of shock. Their minds in a tight grip. It was only them. Charles and Erik. The sun and the breeze. Dark and light. 

 

Erik and his beloved. His dark, dark breeze. 

 

“Charles… I’m so sorry. But this… this war is not you. You are good, I know it. I know what my schatz is, I know who he is. And it is nowhere near this,” Erik said softly, moving with firm, long strides over to him. He stood in front of Charles, who had yet to even utter a word. Erik stood steady, reaching out a hand to touch Charles’ cheek. He knew Charles wouldn’t be able to tell his intentions. What he was really going to do. Because even though Charles was no longer his Charles, the one he loved, he still couldn’t hurt Erik. Erik’s fingers brushed over his cheek, then the other hand moved to either side. He crashed their lips together, firm and passionate. Sad. A goodbye. Once he pulled away, his eyes were still closed. His hands moved to hold Charles’ head. And the last word Charles uttered was Erik’s name. 

 

As soon as Erik heard that, in /Charles’/ voice. In /his Charles’/ voice, his eyes snapped open. But his hands were far too quick for his mind to stop them. Seconds after Charles uttered Erik’s name, a crunch accompanied it. 

 

“Charles…”


End file.
